memory’s so treacherous
Finn doesn’t understand - the name means very little to him - until Safrin reaches out for the owl, and the Spyglass gives her his full attention for the first time. Certainly a beautiful creature, he notes the galaxies that swim in eyes far too intelligent for a mere bird, and swallows hard. The responsibility for a living thing is something not to be taken lightly, and Finn is... hardly responsible for his own well-being.
But the goddess provides reassurances that, were he not somewhat starstruck, would seem all too perfect. As it is, he gives a polite smile and a nod. ”Of course I can,” he says. ”I make my home in an attic in the Tower. I have a skylight, so she will be able to come and go as she pleases.”
But the goddess provides reassurances that, were he not somewhat starstruck, would seem all too perfect. As it is, he gives a polite smile and a nod. ”Of course I can,” he says. ”I make my home in an attic in the Tower. I have a skylight, so she will be able to come and go as she pleases.”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
